This contains spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier. You have been warned.

That said, this is a part of my Hurricane Universe (although technically this is the first story I have posted in it. (I'm not writing them in order)), taking place right after the events of The Winter Soldier.


Natasha Romanoff rarely looked back. This time though, she allowed herself to glance back for just a second as she got in the car. She could see Steve and Sam talking and looking at the folder she had procured as they walked away. Natasha slipped into the car and pulled the door shut. As the car pulled away from the curb, she was silent.

"We're going to Richmond." Maria Hill said from the driver's seat. "The few agents we know are still loyal are being processed there and then being sent to quiet places to build new covers." There was a wry smile on Maria's face as she said the last words.

"Great. I love small towns." Natasha replied sarcastically.

But part of her was relieved, despite her false bravado. A lot had happened over the past few days and a small town would provide a chance to wrap her head around all the consequences of her actions and those of people around her. She leaned her head back and fiddled with the silver arrow charm around her neck as Maria droned on about logistics.


Maria Hill parked the car in the parking lot of Richmond International airport. Natasha followed her as she left the car and headed for the central terminal. Maria set a fast pace and Natasha had to force her bruised body to keep up. Upon reaching the center terminal, Maria sat down on one of the benches to wait and gestured for Natasha to join her.

"What are we doing here?" Natasha asked.

"We're waiting for someone."

Any further conversations were cut short when people began streaming out of the gate. Natasha leaned forward, trying to spot the other agent. Almost before he came into view, she knew who it was. She could feel his familiar presence. As he came closer she stood and walked forward to meet him. At last she could see him, standing there with a duffle bag in one hand. He dropped the duffle bag and, as she reached him, Clint opened his arms and pulled her into a tight hug.

"You're okay." He breathed, half to himself.

Natasha didn't say anything. Instead, she just drank in Clint's scent - a fresh, earthy smell mixed with a little cinnamon - and relished the physical contact. Long before either of them wanted to, they broke apart and rejoined Hill, careful to keep their faces neutral.

"Since you two have worked together closely in the past, we are sending both of you to California. We want you close enough to Malibu to be able to deal with Stark's messes. Find somewhere you won't be noticed and establish new covers." She handed Clint and Natasha each a phone. "Use these to contact me in an emergency. Otherwise, limit contact with former Shield operatives."

"Got it." Clint said.

"Good. Take the car Natasha and I came in."

"Do you have a ride?" Natasha asked.

"Stark is sending someone to pick me up and give me a tour. Evidently he finds it fun to waste my time."

"Who else knows where we're going?" Natasha asked, recent experiences making her more cautious than usual.

"Myself, Director Fury, and one other agent." Hill replied.

"Who?" Clint asked, suspicion giving his tone a slight edge.

"That's classified."

"Shield is gone Hill. Nothing's classified anymore."

"I'm sorry Agent Barton," Maria said, putting slight emphasis on the word agent. "But that information is still classified, until such a time as Director Fury decides to release it."

Clint was seething, but he didn't ask any more questions, knowing it was useless. He stood up and turned to leave.

"Agent Barton, I don't have to tell you and Agent Romanoff that any slips in your covers would be disastrous. If you even suspect that someone knows your real identities, you need to leave."

"Understood."

Clint left. A few minutes later, Natasha joined him outside. Wordlessly, she led the way to the car and tossed him the keys.

Once Clint had pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced over at Natasha.

"Next time, call me."

"What?" Natasha replied, looking up.

"Next time you short out your wire, call me and let me know you're okay."

"Okay."

"When your wire went quiet, I was afraid you were dead."

"I had to short out an electric weapon Pierce had on me. But how did you know my wire went quiet?"

"I was listening in."

"How?"

"When I first joined Shield, we didn't exactly see eye to eye. I sort of went rogue to execute an unauthorized rescue. During that time, a friend helped me make a one way radio that connected to Shield. When no one showed up to debrief me after my latest mission, I went and picked it up from a storage locker in Paris. Most of the channels were blank, but I eventually found someone's wire - yours."

"That's how you found out about Hydra, isn't it?"

"I got the general idea from your conversation with Pierce. Fury filled me in on the details when I met up with him in London." Clint pulled off of the highway onto a side street. He drove for another couple miles before pulling into a parking lot.

"We'll ditch the car here and spend the night in a hotel. In the morning we can find a new ride."

"Sounds good." Natasha said, sliding out of the car and grabbing her bag from the backseat.

Clint grabbed his bag as well. Falling into step with Natasha, he slipped his free hand into hers and led the way to a small hotel. He tossed his bag on the couch as soon as they reached their room. Natasha's bag joined his a moment later. Clint turned to face Natasha as she carefully slipped out of her jacket, trying to hide her wince. It didn't escape Clint's notice however, and he gently pushed aside her shirt to reveal the large bandage covering her shoulder.

"What happened Nat?"

"I ran into an old acquaintance and we didn't exactly see eye to eye."

"Nat, I'm serious."

"Fine. The Winter Soldier was in D.C. during Hydra's show and he shot me."

"For a guy who's supposed to be a myth, you seem to run into him quite a lot."

Clint walked over to the couch and rummaged through his bag for a minute before coming up with a first aid kit. Natasha sat down on the bed and grimaced as Clint gently pulled away the bandage. Keeping his touch as soft as possible, he spread ointment over the wound and place a thick gauze pad over it. Clint grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped it around Natasha's shoulder to hold it in place.

"Any other wounds I should take care of?"

"That's the only big thing. The rest is just the usual cuts and bruises."

Clint started to put everything back into the kit. As he did so, his sleeve slid up, revealing a circle of cuts and bruises around his wrist. Natasha reached out and caught hold of his hand, pushing up his sleeve with her free one.

"How'd you get this?"

"I let myself get caught so I could interrogate some people without their knowledge. One of my "captors" was a bit overly fond of ropes."

"Any other injuries?" Natasha asked as she pulled the gauze and ointment back out of the kit.

"Broken rib or two. Assorted cuts and bruises. Typical post mission stuff."

"Do you have an ace bandage here?"

"It's in the outside pocket."

"How'd your ribs get broken?" Natasha asked as Clint eased his shirt over his head.

"A guy with a club beat me up a little bit, and then I landed rather hard on a fire escape. "

Natasha was silent as she wound the wound the ace bandage tightly around Clint's torso. When she finished, she pinned the end in place. She went to meet his eyes and noticed a long, shallow cut running diagonally over his shoulder.

"You were in a knife fight." Natasha said, wetting a rag in the sink. She started cleaning the cut, her hands gentle despite the steel in her voice.

"Uh huh." Clint replied, leaning back as his ribs twinged.

Natasha spread ointment along the cuts on his shoulder and wrists. She wrapped his wrists with thin gauze bandages and packed away the supplies. Clint gingerly pulled his shirt back on and sat back against the pillows. Natasha curled up cat-like against Clint's chest and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

"I've missed this." Clint said, draping his wiry arm over Natasha.

"Hmmm ..."

"Knowing you have my back."

"I've missed it too."

They were both quiet for several minutes, content to just be in each other's presence. Eventually, Natasha rolled over to face Clint.

"Tell me you're not Hydra." She said, avoiding Clint's eyes.

Clint looked at Natasha and understanding dawned in his eyes. He gently placed a hand under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. "I am not Hydra. I would never do that to you … or Coulson."

"I know. I just … I needed to hear you say it. So many people I thought were on my side weren't. Sitwell was Hydra, for god's sake. He oversaw part of my training and now it turns out he was working for a secret Nazi organization."

"Our whole world was turned upside down and feels like we're in free fall." Clint said softly, before brushing Natasha's hair aside and kissing her. It was slow and gentle, but filled with the same fierce energy Clint did everything with. When they broke apart, Natasha smiled. "I've missed that too."

Clint smiled back and draped his arm over Natasha again. As he was drifting off to sleep, he heard Natasha whisper, "We could leave, you know. Go anywhere, be anyone."

"I'll follow you, if you go." He replied sleepily, unconsciously echoing what she had said five years ago. He kissed her forehead and, as sleep washed over him, he thought he heard her whisper thanks.


Some sixth sense woke Clint around one in the morning. He lay still, looking for all the world like a sleeping person, and listened. He could hear the breeze outside the hotel, gusting through the trees. Narrowing his focus, he could hear Natasha tossing and turning beside him. All the pieces clicked into place and he sat up, ignoring his broken ribs.

"Tasha! Natasha, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Quick as lightning, Clint found himself with a knife to his throat. He didn't move. Instead, he sat there calmly, waiting.

"Wake up Nat."

Clint watched as Natasha woke up, slowly coming out of her nightmare. She dropped the knife onto the bed and sat frozen, staring at the wall. Clint scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her. She looked up at him and sighed.

"It's been a while since you've had a nightmare, hasn't it?" Clint asked.

"No. I've had nightmares almost every night since they split us up and sent you undercover."

Clint met Natasha's eyes He could see that all her defenses had been stripped away, that she was vulnerable.

"Stay right there." Clint ordered, standing up and opening his bag. He pulled out a sweatshirt and a bag of powdery, brown stuff.

"Here, put this on." He said, tossing the sweatshirt on the bed in front of her. He strode into the kitchen and set a pot full of water on the stove. As the water came to a boil, he dumped the chocolaty powder into the pot and shook the bag to get the last few chocolate chips out. Finding two mugs, he split the hot chocolate between them and carried both mugs into the bedroom. He handed one mug to Natasha before sitting next to her on the bed and wrapping both hands around his mug.

"We didn't have any whipped cream to put on top." Clint said as Natasha stared down at the dark brown liquid.

Natasha didn't reply. She took a sip of the hot chocolate and leaned against Clint's shoulder.

"Want to talk about it?" Clint offered, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

"It was just another nightmare."

Clint didn't press her for answers. He simply took another sip of his hot chocolate and waited.

"It was about the Red Room, at first. I never told you, but the Winter Soldier was the one who trained me." She hesitated, fiddling with the arrow charm around her neck, for a minute. "Then it became different, more like a memory than a dream. It was almost like I was reliving the moments leading up to the first time the Winter Soldier shot me."

"I didn't realize your nightmares about that were so bad."

"That wasn't the bad part. I could have handled that. What I had trouble dealing with was being too far away to stop the Winter Soldier from hurting you."

Clint sat in silence for several minutes, processing her words and sipping hot chocolate. Eventually, he set his mug down on the bedside table and looked at Natasha.

"Там нет смысла беспокоиться о будущем. Ни один из нас не может ничего с этим поделать." Clint said, the switch to Russian having long since become second nature. (There's no point in worrying about the future. Neither of us can do anything about it.)

"Но," (But,)

"Послушай меня, мой огненный паук. Пока мы оба в безопасности. В нашей работе, вы не можете попросить намного больше, чем это." (Listen to me, my fiery spider. For now we're both safe. In our line of work, you can't ask for much more than that.)

Natasha set her mug on the bedside table next to Clint's and leaned back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured, "Немного поспать Tasha. Я буду здесь." (Get some sleep Tasha. I'll be right here.)


The smell of coffee woke Clint the next morning. He rolled over and saw a scone and a cup of coffee sitting on the bedside table in place of the empty mugs.

"Tasha?" Clint called questioningly.

"Yeah?" Natasha replied, stepping out of the bathroom dressed in a black tank top and a pair of jeans. She hadn't finished toweling off her hair and it hung in damp waves down to her shoulders.

"You got coffee."

"There's a Starbucks across the street. It seemed better than the complimentary crap they left on the kitchen counter."

"Since when are you a morning person?"

"I'm not. I've just had such a weird schedule the past few days that I woke up at six thirty and couldn't get back to sleep. We should be on the road within the next hour."

"I was actually thinking we should take a train. If we pick up a couple of briefcases, we'll just look like business people." Clint said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"We should probably figure out our covers now. You need something inconspicuous."

"I could be a foreign language teacher. I'm fluent in enough of them to get just about any position. And I still have a few covers I never told Shield about."

"That sounds good. I was thinking of resuming my old job at Stark Industries."

"Natasha… "

"Say what you will about Stark, but you can't deny he's loyal. He and Pepper won't tell anyone. Besides it puts me in the perfect position to keep an eye on him and clean up his messes."

"Is that alias still good?"

Natasha nodded, "I never told Shield, since it was an alias I only used for missions Shield needed to not be connected to."

"Alright." Clint replied, getting out of bed and pulling on a fresh shirt. He finished his coffee and scone quickly while Natasha finished drying her hair. Together they cleaned the room of all traces of their presence. Just before they left, Natasha tossed Clint an hourglass charm on a leather cord. He pulled the cord over his head, letting the hourglass slip beneath his shirt to rest against his chest.

"Thanks."

"I'm just returning a favor." Natasha said, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she shouldered her bag and opened the door.


I've been really obsessed with Clintasha (BlackHawk, whatever) lately and after seeing The Winter Soldier, I couldn't help but write a fic dealing with Clint and Natasha's reunion after Shield falls, as well as what they're going to do now. And I had way more fun than I probably should have playing around with the effect the events of The Winter Soldier had on both of them (Mostly Natasha).

Of course, I had to mention the arrow necklace because, well, ARROW NECKLACE! And after seeing someone's headcanon that Clint had a matching spider one, I decided to play around a tiny bit with Natasha giving Clint a token (I didn't think a spider would suit him so I went with an hourglass instead.)

If I got any of the Russian wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it (I used google translate for it, so it might not be 100% accurate).

Please review! It always makes my day, and it might make me post more stories soon, although I have a tendency to write a lot of stories at once and take a long time to finish them. (I also like constructive criticism.)